Picture Day

As the only Black student in my class, difference wasn’t something I could hide—it was the first thing everyone saw. When Picture Day rolled around each year, that difference felt magnified. I longed for hair like the other girls—long, straight, flowing like Pocahontas in the Disney movie I adored. In my young imagination, I’d wake up on Picture Day magically transformed. But the reality was I’d wear barrettes and hair balls, carefully styled by my mother’s loving hands. At the time, I called it “settling.” I smiled awkwardly for the camera, unaware that what I wore was not a compromise—it was a crown.

Years later, I see what I couldn’t then: my mother was teaching me pride. Each style was a celebration of culture, creativity, and resilience—a language of beauty passed down through generations. Now, when I step in front of a camera, I smile with confidence, knowing that every picture tells a story of heritage, love, and strength.

Thank you, Mom, for teaching me that true beauty isn’t about blending in—it’s about honoring who you are and wearing it proudly.